Upto Chance (Tejran)

Part 34

They say good times move faster than the bad, and Ragini didn't realize when another month slipped by. But in that time, something had changed—her longing for her husband grew deeper. Karanveer had been swamped with work, his days blending into nights with barely any rest. His health had started to show the strain, and his family's worry only grew with each passing day.

Ragini sat on their bed with a book in her hands, glancing at the clock every few minutes. It was past 1 a.m., and Karanveer was still not home. She tried to fight her sleep, but exhaustion eventually won, and she dozed off with the book still in her lap.

When Karanveer finally returned, he looked worn out—his tie loosened, hair disheveled, and dark circles shadowing his tired eyes. As he entered their room, the sight of Ragini waiting for him tugged at his heart.

He sighed, guilt settling in his chest. He had told her countless times not to wait for him, to prioritize her rest. But his wife was nothing if not stubborn. Quietly, he walked over to her and adjusted her position, tucking her under the blanket properly. As he did, her eyes fluttered open.

"Aap aa gaye," she whispered groggily, her sleep fading as she looked up at him.

He nodded, offering her a faint smile. 

"Dinner?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.

"I had some snacks in the evening," he replied, his tone betraying his exhaustion.

Her first instinct was to scold him, to tell him off for neglecting his meals and health. But seeing the weariness etched on his face, she decided against it. Instead, she placed a hand on his arm.

"You change," she said gently. "Let's go to bed."

Karanveer nodded again and headed to the washroom. As soon as he closed the door, Ragini got up and made her way to the kitchen. 

She quickly prepared a warm glass of kesar doodh with saffron and cardamom. Once it was ready, she carried it back to their room.

When Karanveer stepped out of the washroom, he looked slightly better, dressed in a simple t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He raised an eyebrow as Ragini handed him the glass.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Warm milk. You need it," she replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Karanveer raised an eyebrow,  "Touché," he said, taking a sip. As the warm milk slid down his throat, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. He leaned toward her, the teasing grin on his face growing wider.

"But you know, wife," he began, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, "traditionally, this warm glass of milk is served to the husband on the wedding night. Are we running a little late on tradition here?"

Ragini's eyes widened, her cheeks instantly flushing. "Shut up" she hissed, trying to snatch the glass from his hand, but he pulled it away, holding it just out of reach.

"Wait, wait," he said, laughing. "I'm not done yet. I mean, if you wanted to relive our wedding night, you could've just said so. I'd have happily—"

"Karanveer!" she cut him off, glaring at him, though the blush on her face betrayed her irritation.

"Okay, okay," he said, laughing harder. "But seriously, biwi, this is very sweet of you. And very... traditional. Are you secretly trying to impress me with your wifely duties?"

She rolled her eyes, her hands firmly on her hips now. "Drink your milk and stop talking nonsense."

He grinned at her, taking another sip. "Hmm, this is nice. Did you put extra love in this?"